There is an amazing photograph of St. Thérèse of Lisieux wearing armor, dressed as St. Joan of Arc. It was no more than a costume for a little drama in the convent, but it now stands as a portrait not only of Thérèse the Little Flower, but also of Thérèse the Little Warrior.

She might have been a little flower, but if so, she was a steel magnolia.

Too many read her Story of a Soul and come away only with the sweet sentimentality of mid-19th-century French spirituality. Despite the little flowers, the starry nights and the lisping tributes to her “heavenly Papa,” there is also a soul on fire, a chevalier of the Spirit and a knight of Christ the King. With the heart of a gladiator, Thérèse says on her cruel deathbed, “When I think I’m dying in bed, I would want to die in an arena!”

She longs to be a Christian soldier, marching on to war. She wrote that she wanted to “die in a battlefield, arms in hand. … I would not fear going to war. With what joy, for example, at the time of the Crusades, I would have gone to combat heretics. Yes! I would not have been afraid to be shot; I would not have feared the fire!”

She was so brave and resolute that those who knew her said, “Under a suave and gracious aspect, [she] revealed at every instant, in her actions, a strong character and a manly soul.” Pope Pius XI said she was “a manly soul.” Her battle was for holiness and against Satan. With great vigor she cried out, “Sanctity! It must be won at the point of a sword!”

Out of her love for Christ, Thérèse said, “In spite of my littleness, I would like to enlighten souls, as did the prophets and the doctors. I have the vocation of the apostles. I would like to travel over the whole earth to preach your Name and to plant your glorious cross on infidel soil. But … one mission alone would not be sufficient for me; I would want to preach the Gospel on all the five continents simultaneously and even to the most remote isles.”

She said on the day of her death, Sept. 30, 1897, “I believe I have been granted all my desires.”

In the marvelous ways of providence, the little Carmelite did become a missionary. Her relics have been taken to every continent in the world; and wherever they appear, thousands flock to venerate them. Souls are saved. Confessions are heard. Sins are forgiven. Heretics are converted. Hearts are melted. Her wish to be a missionary was fulfilled after her death.

She said she would spend her heaven doing good on earth, and her wish to be a warrior was also fulfilled. She once had a prophetic dream: “I went to sleep for a few moments during prayer. I dreamt there were not enough soldiers for a war against the Prussians. You [Mother Agnes] said: ‘We need to send Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus.’ I answered that I agreed, but that I would prefer to fight at a holy war. But, finally, I went all the same.”

The First World War broke out just 17 years after her death. There were some 40 recorded apparitions of Thérèse to soldiers on the battlefield. She appeared holding a cross or sometimes a sword. The soldiers reported that they saw her, spoke to her — and she to them. She helped them with temptations, calmed their fears and protected and converted them.

The stories were recorded and published in 1920, just before her canonization. The Laudem Gloriae blog records how the French soldiers called her “my little sister of the trenches,” “my war patroness,” “the shield of soldiers,” “the angel of battles” and “my dear little Captain.”

A soldier wrote, “In fact, that gentle Saint will be the great heroine of this war.” Another commented, “I think of her when the cannon thunders with great roar.”

More astoundingly, the men of the French military named artillery pieces and planes after Sister Thérèse. Whole regiments were consecrated to her, and witnesses said relics of the saint miraculously stopped rifle bullets like real shields, saving the lives of the soldiers who carried them.

In our modern world, where warfare is total and Christians seem wary of war, Thérèse reminds us that we are all engaged in a fight to the death. Our adversary — the devil — stalks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour (1 Peter 5:8). St. Peter reminds us to, therefore, be alert and awake — never letting down our guard; and if we need a patroness in battle, a guide and guard, we can rejoice that in a world of massive military might it is a fearless little child who takes our hand and wins our hearts and leads us to victory.

I saw a movie about St. Therese, the Little Flower. In it she told her
father she would like to become a Carmelite. Her father picked a bloom from a vine nearby and said, “As I gather this flower, so God gathers you.” We know how young she was when she went to her reward. She was
gathered then in a different way, but by the same One who placed in her heart the desire to belong to God alone.

Posted by john cronin on Thursday, Oct, 2, 2014 11:01 AM (EDT):

Who were the troops in the German Army dedicating emselves to? Ravings of a madman.

Posted by Ron on Wednesday, Oct, 1, 2014 9:15 PM (EDT):

I love you St. Thérèse, our little flower.

Posted by Helen Hawkins on Wednesday, Oct, 1, 2014 6:23 PM (EDT):

The first time I read “The Story of A Soul” I also came away with what you described as “the sweet sentimentality of mid-19th-century French spirituality”. I was bewildered as to why she was a Doctor of the Church.

I thought that surely I had missed something. So I read it again, and again, and again. After about the fourth time I read it, I began to understand.

I still think that you may be missing the heart of the matter. As I see her: it was her sweetness, her starry nights, her gentle childlike demeanor, her love for her family, her love for God, her sentimentality that is her strength, her character, her battle against the evil of this world and the mediocrity of all of us who refuse to live a life of childlike trust in God.

She battled atheism in her own heart. She battle against despair in her own soul. She shared with Blessed Mother Teresa the pain of the “Dark Night of the Soul”. She was a warrior then as she is a warrior now. She is - in a word - my heroine.

Posted by Joseph on Wednesday, Oct, 1, 2014 12:15 PM (EDT):

Thank you, Fr. Longenecker for bringing to us this is a great new insight about St. Therese who had saintly bravery that she showed in more than one way! We need to take this major lesson from her. How we need her example and inspiration today!

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